


To Share A World

by SmokeWithFlavour



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28538601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmokeWithFlavour/pseuds/SmokeWithFlavour
Summary: A somewhat different approach to what might have happened years after the end of the original seven books. A bit darker as well.





	To Share A World

I looked upon the blasted lands that now served as our home – a barren desert somewhere in northern Africa. My feet were covered with sand from the constant blowing wind and my face was being stung with each new gust as the hot sand came over me. In the distance I could see nothing but endless sands. Above, the sun continued it’s never ending oppression and what little shade we had below this natural rock I now stood on served as a welcome respite. Below it, a small man sat with a rifle in his hands. He held it close to him looking the other way, down over the horizon that spanned behind us.

He wore a uniform of the French foreign legion, the green and red emblem was worn and dusted, almost invisible below the sand. His green beret was dirty and faded, yet the man wore it out of respect for what he believed in. On his right arm was a line of text that was hand written: “ _Marche ou crève”_.

March or die.

A line of thought that every time I glanced at it made me rethink as to why we are here now. Why we are hiding in this forsaken place. Alone, without allies, with nothing but a cause that no one understood.

“Al, there is ten hours from here to the next stop, we can make it.” The man said in what I started to call bosnian-french.

“The storm might be getting up soon. We risk getting caught.” I replied. But Faris knew that I had already made my mind.

I stepped off the rock, took my backpack, my rifle and went towards the horizon. My hands were busy readjusting the piece of cloth that now covered the whole of my head. A white fabric that was anything but white from the days of use and dirt that covered it. Faris was behind me in moments, the straps of his backpack readjusted, his own weapon safely held in his hands – Faris never let go of his guns – and with a steady step, fell in behind me.

The trip was done in silence. Not a word was spoken between the two of us. Faris kept glancing behind and I kept doing the same to our sides. The fear was evident in our step, but I liked to believe there was also determination there. Every now and then we would stop for a few moments, take a few sips of water and would continue on. Faris would occasionally check the compass then show it to me and nod - as if that act alone made it clear enough that we were doing what was right.

The storm never came, and for that I was grateful. Soon enough the sun set as well and we were left within a sand hell that was getting colder with each step we took.

My thoughts kept going to the men waiting for us. How many of them would we find alive? Were any of them hurt beyond recovery? How long before all of us are gone? What if my father found them?

I was sure Faris was thinking the same and I knew he would never voice those fears. To vocalize them would be to make them real. So in this silence our comrades were alive, unhurt and had somehow found a way out of the hell that was Marrakesh and Morocco.

After a while the walk became a steady rhythm, my thoughts were gone and soon the only thing I saw was the dark of the horizon, split by the stars above and the sand below.

An eternity later, a shape was visible in the distance. Faris pointed ahead and I nodded, both hastening our tired steps. An hour or so later we were approaching several huts spaced in a ring formation around a well. They weren’t readily apparent and one would have to know what to look out for in order to spot them. Behind a dune and down towards the well, Faris and I held each other as our steps became harder the closer we were to the goal. I was parched. My water-skin ran had dried up hours ago and my vision swam.

“Tawaquf!” A heavy female German accent yelled, surprising both Faris and me.

I fell to my knees in front of the entrance with my hands raised. I tried to yell but my voice betrayed me, a squeaking sound came out, barely loud enough to be heard.

“Thunder crumples the sky!” I cried.

There was silence from the camp. Faris was on his knees next to me, his weapon held high in his hands.

Then the same voice spoke.

“Lightning tears at it.”

The thick German accent was unmistakable.

“And now the rain.” I said.

“Penitent, tearful.” The voice replied, shaking.

“Forgiven.” I finished.

Three figures rushed from behind sand-hidden walls and came to our aid. Men, clad in combat gear and armed. Two of them rushed for me while the female voice went for Faris. They took us by the arms and carried us all the while yelling with joy.

“You fuckers are alive. I fucking can’t believe it, you made it.” Liam, the man to my right helping me walk was tugging at my hand and whispering in my ear. He kissed my cheek and opened the door to one of the huts. The largest of the three. Xu, the other man carrying me was whispering something in mandarin I didn’t understand but he had a firm grip on me, every now and then he would squeeze me harder in a hug as if he didn’t believe I was physically there. Faris was swearing in French and Bosnian hugging Julia and stumbling across the doorway. Inside, Jani and Martha had teary eyes and looks of disbelief.

“You made it.” Martha said coming to embrace me in a tight hug as Xu and Liam let go of me, then did the same with Faris.

Jani looked at me not saying a word. He stood with his hands to the side, beaten, morose. His eyes were shaking. Everyone was looking at him and me standing in front of the man trying to utter words that weren’t coming. I was angry and pissed at him, even felt a sting of betrayal. Yet I couldn’t be so hypocritical to say I wouldn’t do the same.

“I am sorry, Al.” He finally said as I was about to start.

“I am so sorry. There was no other way. I had to kill him. I had to leave you or we would all have died. That man had us in his grip. He…” His voice trailed as he was going back to Marrakesh in his mind. His face brought me back as well. The explosions. Then silence. Then the screams faded in and that was all I would hear for days.

Before all of us went there I rushed and hugged the man, this Finnish giant of a man, taller than me and whispered.

“Fuck you, Jani. Fuck you! I told you to stick with me.” I hugged him even tighter then. “There was nothing you could do against that.” He looked me in the eyes, scared, nearly crying. “Nothing you could have done.” I repeated. This grown man was scared to death and I didn’t blame him. I was scared to death too and I understood what was happening there.

“I had to kill the messenger, Al. I had to…” He kept going.

“I know.” I said immediately. “I know. I would have done the same.” I wouldn’t have. But those were the words that needed to be said right now. I couldn’t have expected the man to react better in that situation, soldier or not, his life was on the line and the life of his friends over an informant he saw eight hours earlier.

I let go of him and awkward silence followed. The seven of us were standing and finally Julia broke it as she came to hug me and give me some water. I laughed. I forced it at first. The first laugh, and the laugh after that. I forced them trying to remember what normal human interaction looked like. Julia did the same, she laughed with me, except somehow more genuine. She laughed and then she started crying hugging me tighter to muffle the sounds, holding me closer. I held her back and in those moments the only thing I could think of was that I was grateful that this war hadn’t taken our humanity yet. That somehow in this injustice we were going through, humanity remained. Somehow against all odds - resilient.

Things started flowing normally then. Faris and I ate. We took our gear off and we sat down. Sleep was threatening to overwhelm me but I remained upright as Xu with perfect English retold the events that Faris and I missed. Jani’s gamble, the escape, the chase through the streets, through the state. How they got shot, or worse. And how each and every one of them reacted to the worse parts with the training I instilled in them. All of them slowly started chipping in on the story and Faris and I listened.

They were ambushed again, but this time they were prepared. Oddly Xu stopped then. He looked at me and licked his lips. “We might have broken one of your orders, Al.” My blood froze. I was guessing Xu recognized it from my expression as his hands were instantly in the air.

“Nothing bad happened. We took all the precautions, as you said we should.”

Somehow I was sure I knew where this is heading.

“I think I told you never to do that in the first place. Where is he? Or I guess she?”

“A few kilometers from here. He is unconscious. We did everything as you said. He doesn’t know where he is or who has him.”

“Who is it?” I asked.

“The one with half his hair red.” Xu replied.

“How? He is not very good with my father, but he does his job exceptionally well.”

“Oh, as you said.” Xu paused. “Arrogance.”

There was pride in his voice. He knew that what they had done was remarkable, to get a jump on one of their hunters was almost impossible with what they could do and how they were always a few steps ahead.

Jani interjected with a raised hand, trying to call for my attention, seeing as I went deathly silent.

“Your father has no idea where we are. If he did they would already be upon us.”

“He does have a habit of appearing out of nowhere.” Julia said.

“We can’t keep him or take him with us.” Faris said, bringing about the line of action I knew would be unavoidable.

“Get what information you can and we leave him.” He continued.

It took me a while, but I nodded.

I looked around these people and noticed most were older than me, yet they followed and believed. There was no strength in me to berate them I nodded once again, more vigorously this time.

“You did something truly amazing. Be proud of that. That man is exceptionally skilled. Well done team.”

They nodded, Xu laughed and Faris snorted. Liam smiled and clenched my shoulder.

“You go, prom king.”

“Fuck you, Liam.” I smirked back. “Get back to watch. Faris and I need some sleep. Martha and I will leave for the hideout in five hours while the rest of you pack our things for the south. We need to reach Nigeria this week.”

Nods came after that. Julia, Xu and Liam went out to watch while the rest of us went to get some sleep.

I thought sleep would come in an instant, instead it eluded me. My thoughts kept going to the action that will be required of me tomorrow. To most likely torture and kill a man. This was the moment I knew the war started in earnest, that soon there will be no going back. My hands will be as drenched in blood, guilt and shame as the ones of those I am trying to fight.

But I believed. I believed so hard in the sharing of knowledge, of worlds united. Of all knowledge finally being available. It was with those thoughts I finally fell asleep. Once they woke me it was as always - too little sleep.

They let me sleep an extra hour. I knew it the moment they woke me. It was somehow longer, I grew too used to sleeping five or less hours. Liam roused me from sleep and Martha was already waiting for me outside. “You got any sleep?” She asked. And to that I grunted and shrugged my shoulders. She gave me a weak smile.

The sun was already up and bright as we left the camp. I had no idea where we were going but Martha was confident in her stride and so I followed, silent and still sleepy. She didn’t press me with any questions and for that I was grateful. Of all of them, she had the most peculiar emotional intelligence, as if she knew my thoughts. As if she understood the decisions that were in front of me. Every time she would surprise me with her understanding and compassion. After all she and I started all of this two years ago. Had it been two years already? How?

After some half an hour of walking we were at the site. A ramshackle building barely holding together somehow merged with the ground, was in front of us. The windows and doors were bolted shut but I knew that the sand got in there anyway. If I hadn’t known it was there I would have missed it. From a distance it looked just like another ordinary part of the scenery.

“He is inside and should be unconscious. We went and checked on him during your sleep.” She said.

I nodded and went to remove the bolts and security from the door. As I opened it I saw a form tied to a post lying in front of it.

“Wait for me here, please.” Martha nodded to that and took position in the shade next to the door.

I shut the door behind me and entered the darkness of the room. My eyes were slowly adjusting to the gloom and the only light coming in was from a few cracks on the door.

The room smelled of human sweat, blood, dust and what not. It was stale and dry, filled with sand in each corner almost to the top. The man in front of me was bare chested with linen pants that looked more like an improvised piece of clothing than actual trousers. His arms were scrapped and cut in several places. Crusted blood lined his arms as well as his chest and ribs. I could see that his feet were bare and burnt probably from walking in hot sand. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man. Feel sorry until my mind conjured the screams and the rage that I felt then.

My leg flew of its own volition, hitting the prone body straight in the ribs and producing a loud yelp and a grunt from the man.

He raised his face, which was surprisingly clean, smeared with sand from the ground but the lips were hydrated. No cracked skin showed that the team kept him alive well enough, not risking potential complications with him getting dehydrated.

Redmare stared back at me, recognition hit his face as my virulent smile greeted him and finally another kick to the ribs sent him down again. He coughed, squirmed on the floor and somehow got to his feet.

“You little piece of shit. You fucking cunt.” He had to breathe between sentences now. Unlike how he would usually spurt his swearing in a torrent of words without ever stopping. His ragged voice sounded nothing like his calm and collected self. Half of his hair was dyed crimson red, the other half blonde.

“I hope your fathers makes an asylum just for you and feeds you to the de-“ Another kick.

“You are a disgrace to our kind. When I get out of here I will bring you before him myself. When I find…” It continued and I watched him and listened to his empty threats, to the never ending bravado that was always so present in Redmare’s communication. He wasn’t stopping. Mentioning all sorts of imprisonment and torture. Murder even, and worse.

“Redmare.” I said calmly, smiling all the while.

He ignored me and kept at it standing awkwardly with his hands bound to a stump pulling him constantly forward.

“Redmare.” I called again. This time even quieter, slower.

Part of me was hoping it was my face that made him stop, the smile, the energy of the rage that now coursed through me.

“You are not getting out of here.” I said.

A moment passed before his ragged, breathing form understood the implication of those words. He slowed down and kept staring at me. He knew I wasn’t kidding. He knew I was serious.

“You wouldn’t dare…” Redmare said.

“You won’t tell me anything that I don’t already know. I am aware of that. And there is too much pride in you for that.”

“You are god damned right I wouldn’t.”

“That’s why I won’t even try.”

“Fuck you, Alb-.“ This time I slapped him as hard as I could. My hand hurt from the impact and his left side of the face matched his hair.

When he recovered from the blow he continued.

“You and your idiotic ideas of unity. You have no idea what that would do, how that would scar our world.” He spat at my feet.

“I never liked your father and never agreed with his fucking policies. When he shut it down I thought he was mad and it brought nothing but shit to our world. But we stuck together. We were as one, as we always were. Then you came you little worm. You and your love for that filth.” He kept going on.

“Aye, your father liked them too, but deep down I know he knew what mattered more. He married one of us after all. He WAS one of us. There was never any doubt on whose side he was. But then you came. You and that circus of yours. Your league, to protect the poor, to bring them into our world.”

“Share, share, everyone share now.” He spoke in a mocking tone.

“Lets share with the filth.” Redmare continued spitting every word out. Hate drenched over each syllable.

“Say it and I will kill you.” I said. Livid. Ready to start this war in earnest. It didn’t matter if it takes my soul. It didn’t matter anymore at all. Queue the screams. Fade in the horror of that night.

“It was all because of that woman, wasn’t it? The girl gave you a little pussy and now you were smitten. The lad suddenly knew of the world. Felt a bit of oompf under your legs with her did, ya? I am glad we got her first. And I am glad we got her folks as well. She got what she deserved for meddling. Like every single one-“ As he was speaking my hand went slowly to my side, to the belt that held a small piece of elongated wood.

“Say it and you are dead. I fucking dare you, Redmare.” I said, the object now in my hand.

“- every single one of those filthy muggl-.”

“Avada Kedavra!”

Green energy blasted from the wand and into the man in front of me taking his life in an instant. I could feel the might of the magic as it ended existence in an instant, yet somehow I couldn’t help but feel it backlash at me, stripping a part of me with that murder. Taking a sliver of myself with this man, like a chip on my rifle, a reminder of the price I just paid.

I stared at the body for a moment longer and then looked to the side. A piece of paper with my image was on a nearby stool. Below it out of Redmare’s reach was his previous clothing. The image moved as I would and in black letters it said: Albus “Al” Potter - Wanted, extremely dangerous. 30 000 galleons.

After another look at the dead body I went out, contemplating what I just began. Blood and sand. March or die.


End file.
